My Worst Enemy
by Writer-of-the-Unwritten
Summary: The Yellow-Eyes demon controls one of the brothers, Sam's life is in danger, Ruby has found a new body to inhabit. What does it all add up to? Find out!
1. Chapter 1

**I do NOT own Supernatural. I put this up for the enjoyment of others, so here you go Jor!**

**Please, read and review, I would really like some feed back so I know I am doing this correctly!**

**:)  
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"Dean, Dean, you should of known this was going to happen," said Sam. It was not Sam, though, that said those words, it was the yellow-eyes demon possessing him. "How are you possessing Sam? He has the possession ward tattooed onto his shoulder," said Dean, pressed against the wall of the motel room they had slept in the night before. "Ha, don't you know? My blood was spilled into Sammy, so I am tied to him. No ward can stop me from rejoining my blood," said the yellow-eyes demon. "Get out of him you sick son of a bitch," threatened Dean. "Or what? You'll run yourself into the hunter's knife that hovers at your neck. What good would you do if you're dead?" replied the demon, the true voice of Yellow-Eyes distorting Sam's voice. Dean warily eyed the curved blade that hung in the air near his neck, the fading sun giving it a reddish glow. "Please, just get the hell out of my brother. What do you want from me? You have taken my mom, my dad," pleaded Dean, the rage and fear filled him, making him shake. Sweat dripped from Dean's brow. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot about your dear old mom and pop. But they deserved it, don't you think?" taunted the demon, Sam's face contorted by a wicked smile. "Don't you dare talk down about my dad," said Dean, hate making his voice tremble. "I can talk down all I want about dear old daddy. He's in hell, remember? That's as low as it gets," smirked the enemy of the Winchester family. The demon maneuvered Sam's fingers so they flicked towards Dean, forcing the blade a fraction closer to Dean's neck. The veins in Dean's neck and forehead bulged with the effort of keeping away from the knife.

"Now, what to do, what to do," said the yellow-eyed demon. He seemed to ponder something for a moment. "Ah, I know! You've already been to Hell, Dean, correct?" inquired the invader. "What about it, you bastard," replied Dean.

"Well, Hell isn't enough for you, is it?" smirked the demon.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, just that I have to come up with a new way to torture you."

"Do what ever you want to me, but leave Sammy alone."

"Ah, ah, ah," said the demon, wagging Sam's finger in Dean's face, "can't do that, he's the key."

Realization dawned on Dean, "You sick bastard! Get the hell out of my brother!"

The demon chuckled, seeming to twist and darken the younger brother's face. Confident that Dean was unable to move without slitting his throat, the yellow-eyed demon forced Sam to walk to where Dean had slept, pull the knife from under his pillows out, and turn back to face Dean. "A bit paranoid, are you?" mocked Yellow-Eyes. The demon observed the way Dean looked at the knife at his throat and then around the room. He was calculating. The demon didn't like that, because it usually meant he was forming a plan. "Ah, ah, can't have you come up with a way to escape until I'm finished." The demon stepped up to Dean, grabbed hold of the knife, and closed the already small gap between the blade and Dean's neck. The demon watched as Dean gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Heh, I like the scent of fear on you," commented the demon. He released the blade, making it hover there still at Dean's neck while the demon walked a few paces away. He turned towards Dean. With the hefty Hunter's blade in his hand, the demon slid off Sam's jacket and pulled off his shirt and laid them on the motel bed. "See, Dean, what happens when you involve others? Sam was just fine until you showed up." The demon maneuvered the knife so both hands grabbed the hilt and the tip of the blade rested on the skin on Sam's abdomen. "No!" Dean yelled. The demon smirked and rammed the knife into Sam's stomach. There was a dull thud as the knife was stopped by its hilt. Sam grimaced and blood filled his mouth, staining his teeth and tongue the color of blood. The sticky fluid ran from the wound down Sam's pants, the jean material being slowly soaked by the the cascade of blood. "Can you hear you brother, Dean? 'Help, Dean, it hurts!'" said the demon, sounding painfully like Sam. "Fight it Sam, I know it hurts! Fight, get that bastard out of you Sammy," encouraged Dean. "Ha, didn't you learn anything? He can't escape me, he is part of me," scoffed Yellow-Eyes. "But, I am feeling generous today, so I guess I will take my leave." Sam's head was thrown back and a column of black smoke dissipated into the air, accompanied by a shrill whistle. As the last of the black smoke departed, the knife at Dean's neck dropped. There was a thin line of blood marking his neck, nothing more. Dean was unconcerned with the line of blood as he rushed over to Sam, who had fallen onto his back. Sam's breath came in short, quick bursts. "Sam! Sammy! Dammit!" yelled Dean, receiving no response from his injured brother. Dean gripped the hilt of the knife that was still in Sam and pulled it out. Sam coughed and his eyes fluttered open to slits. "Dean?" he asked through the blood that coated his tongue. It felt heavy, and his body felt numb. "Hey Sam," said Dean, his eyes watering a bit. "What the hell you crying for?" Sam asked, strain obvious in his voice. "Nothing, just promise you won't go to sleep, okay?" said Dean, worried. Sam nodded his head. Dean reached up on to the bed and grabbed something. Sam recognized it as a shirt. His shirt. He watched as Dean laid the shirt cross his abdomen. Then he put pressure on it. Pain coursed through Sam, the source of it coming from his stomach. He felt his heartbeat and knew something was wrong. Its beat was different. Black hung at the edges of his vision and he struggled to stay awake. The pain was just too intense, and the darkness overwhelmed him, drawing him into a painless abyss.

"Damn!" yelled Dean when he felt the tension in Sam's muscles release. Dean removed one of his hands, covered in blood, and rummaged in his pocket for his phone. He flipped it open and pressed a couple numbers before putting it to his ear. The phone rang several times, an eternity to Dean, before somebody picked up. "Hello?" said the gruff voice on the other end. "Bobby we need you help, we've been attacked?" said Dean hurriedly. "What? How the hell did that happen?" Bobby said, disbelief in his voice. "Can't explain it now, just hurry. We are in room 53 at the Wicker Basket Motel," said Dean. He snapped the phone shut and returned to caring for Sam. The shirt was soaked through and no more use to Dean. He ran into the bathroom and pulled the towels from the hanging rack and went back down onto his knees, pressing the white, scratchy towel to the wound. A knock was heard on the door and Dean answered it. "What the hell?" Bobby said when he saw the scene laid out before him. "You boys sure are lucky you were where I could get to you." "Yeah, yeah, Bobby, that's great," said Dean, falling back into his habits. "We need to get him to a hospital," said Bobby, knowing that was they best they could do right now.

"What about the demon blood?" said Dean, worried about questions being asked.

"To hell with the demon blood, Dean."

"We can't take him there, they will start running test."

"Well, standing here bickering ain't gonna save Sam's life, now is it?"

"No, but if anything I guess we should call..." Dean trailed, unable to believe what he was about to suggest.

"Who, boy?"

"Ruby." Dean shuddered.

"Go do a summoning circle while I try to care for Sam."

Dean ran out to his Impala, popped the trunk, and lifted the board that concealed Hunter supplies. He grabbed a book, a bowl, and an assortment of various other items before closing everything up and running back inside. He set up a circle and put the necessary supplies into it. He open the book at began to chant. Moments later, the motel door opened, and a red head walked in. "Hello Dean, thanks for bringing me back from Hell," said the red head. "Shut up, Ruby, I only summoned you so you could help Sam," sneered Dean. "And why the hell would I do that? He was the one who sent me to Hell," scoffed Ruby, glaring at Dean.

"Because, you strung him along, so now you are indebted to him," countered Dean.

"Not good enough, sorry."

"Well, fine, how about the fact that I can make you?"

"You can't make me."

"You really want to test that theory?" Dean asked. He pointed to the summoning circle. To the untrained eye, it didn't look different then any other summoning circle the brothers had used, but to Ruby, it spelled "slave". There was a symbol for control mixed with the other marks, and Ruby knew it was a powerful symbol. "So, as I said before, go help Sam," Dean said forcefully. "Damn you," Ruby cursed him as she was pulled towards Sam. she knelt down next to him. "Slit your wrist and let him drink your blood," said Dean, shivering at the thought of seeing it and forcing her to do it. Ruby picked up the knife that was coated in Sam's blood and carved her arm with it. Blood poured from the wound and flowed into Sam's mouth. It only seemed to fill his mouth and then spill from the edges of his lips. The blood started to drain from Sam's mouth and his Adam's apple bobbed and he drank. Bobby moved the towel that Dean had been using to staunch the bleeding and watched in awe as the flow of blood lessened, stopped, and then the wound slowly closing. Sam reached up and pressed Ruby's arm to his mouth and drank even more deeply. Ruby's face paled at the loss of blood. "I need to stop, I... I can't keep doing this," said Ruby, pleading with Dean. Dean didn't have to say anything, though, because Sam had stopped drinking Ruby's blood and let go of her arm. Dean stood up and walked over to where Bobby was kneeling. In place of the horrific wound was a scabbed slash. "Amazing," said Bobby. Ruby, from the loss of blood, fell onto her back and passed out next to the already-unconscious Sam. Dean sat on the ground next to his brother and sighed. _Finally_, he thought. Unknown to him, it wasn't the end.

Sam started to writhe on the floor, his eye lids opened, and all you could see were the whites of his eyes. He sounded as if he was choking, his arms pressed to his sides and the tension from his muscles lifting his back off the floor. Bobby tried to hold his legs down while Dean restrained the upper half of his body. Sam screamed, "No escape!" An energy filled the room, an evil, ancient entity. "Son of a bitch," cursed Dean.

**All right! There you have it! Enjoy, read, comment. PLEASE! LOTS OF COMMENTS!:D**

**Writer-of-the-Unwritten  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural!**

**Hey everybody, I am truly sorry about not getting this chapter up as quick as everyone would like. I would of liked to have gotten it up sooner as well, but it hasn't been possible between all the homework my teachers have been assigning and the crazy work schedule I have been on. I am hoping things become a little more regulated once things get a little more settled. Anyway, here is the chapter. Hope you enjoy! Please R&R!**

Chapter 2

Sam awoke through a veil of heavy sleep. His vision blurred as he opened his eyes. He shifted, and felt pain. He had experienced pain repeatedly, but never anything this intense. His eyes squeezed shut as he grappled with the searing heat that radiated from his abdomen. Once the feeling passed, Sam focused on where he lay. His fingers twitched, and he felt the material used to make a cheap, thin motel blanket. He opened his eyes, stared at the water-stained ceiling, and noted the peeling wallpaper with faded green stripes. It was the Wicker Basket Motel he and Dean had spent the night while investigating a case. _When did I fall asleep?_ Sam asked himself, scouring his mind for an answer. He looked over at where Dean should have been sleeping, never being the one to wake earlier then Sam. "Dean?" Sam inquired, talking to the air. A figure moved over in the small kitchen area of the room.

A face swam into Sam's line of vision. "B… Bobby?" stuttered Sam, surprised to see the long-time family friend standing over him. "Hey Sam, how ya feelin'?" asked Bobby. "I feel like crap. What happened? Oh God, did I get into another bar fight?" grimaced Sam, "Dean hasn't even stopped taunting me about the last one." "Well, if that's what you want to call it, then yeah, it was one hell of a bar fight," replied Bobby. "If it wasn't a bar fight, then it must be something a lot more serious if you're here," Sam said, worried something had happened to Dean. "I know you're thinkin' of your idiot brother, but he wasn't the one in trouble. You were," Bobby informed Sam.

"Me?"

"Do you honestly not remember anything, boy?"

Sam pondered this for a moment, "It comes in flashes, but there was something with Dean, Yellow-Eyes, and a Hunter's knife."

Bobby sighed and ran his hand over his face, "You were possessed by Yellow-Eyes and threatened to kill Dean." Sam's eyes widened in horror, "But I have the possession ward tattooed on me," Sam said, reaching for the shoulder with the symbol. "Yeah, well, apparently it doesn't do you any good against _that _demon." A rush of memories, still in chunks, filled the space behind Sam's eyes. He saw the fear on Dean's face, he saw the two Hunter's knives, and he saw the loathing in Dean's eyes. Sam put a hand over his eyes and immediately regretted it. The heat radiated again and Sam grimaced with intense pain. "I'm no expert, but I do know a nice hot shower is the best kinda doctor, 'cause it's cheap," Bobby consoled Sam. "Help me up," Sam told Bobby. Sam felt the strain of what felt like a scab on his skin as he struggled to stand. Bobby walked behind Sam, hands ready in case Sam needed help. Sam noticed a pair of stilettos poking out from around the edge of the bed. "Please tell me you didn't get a hooker while I was out cold," scoffed Sam.

"That ain't a hooker. It's Ruby."

Sam almost recoiled, and in doing so, started to stumble.

"We had to summon her," Bobby said, helping to balance Sam.

"Why?" Sam asked, disgust pouring off that one word.

"'Cause you were so close to dying that we didn't have any other options."

Sam approached the form lying on the floor. As always, Ruby had picked a prettier girl to inhabit. Sam saw she had red hair this time, but the thing that caught his attention most was the cut uncovered by the short sleeves Ruby was wearing. "Please, Bobby, please tell me I didn't drink from Ruby," pleaded Sam, feeling the need to rid his stomach of its contents. Bobby did not answer, and that was enough verification for Sam. Sam doubled over and dry heaved. There was not anything left in his stomach to purge itself of, his body had soaked up every last bit of blood. He could hear his pulse and feel it pump under the skin in his fingers. Sam knew, though, that it wasn't his blood, it was the blood of a demon. The blood spilled from an innocent body of a possessed girl.

A click penetrated the silence of the motel room as the handle to the door turned open. Bobby peered around from behind Sam's broad shoulders, preparing for an attack. The door swung open and Dean stepped over the threshold. An empty beer bottle dangled from his hand. "Sam?" Dean said, his words slightly slurred. Sam looked up at his brother with cold eyes. "Sammy? It's me." "I know, Dean. I wish I didn't, but I do," replied Sam. Dean's brow furrowed with the pain of those harsh words. "What?" Dean asked. Sam refused to look at his brother as he walked stiffly into the bathroom and mustered up enough strength to slam the door behind him. Sam stumbled to the sink and looked into the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and the room was titling around him. He shut his eyes and grabbed his head, willing the room to be still. Sam opened his eyes and found he was looking at a demon. He jumped back and was stopped by the wall. He moved his hand and the demon moved its. Sam stepped closer to the window and put a hand to his face. It felt the same, but he knew the demon in the mirror was supposed to be him. It was grotesque and disturbing. Sam felt the need to gag arise again so he fell to his knees in front of the toilet, his hands on the rim and dry-heaved several times into the toilet before his stomach calmed. He stood and looked back into the mirror. No demon face. Sam took his shirt off first as he prepared to get in the shower. He felt the strain of the scab again as he pulled the shirt over his head. Sam looked down at his stomach, the dried and flaking scab stuck to his skin. He picked at the corner of it and it came off as a whole. Underneath was a large pink scar that Sam determined was three inches long. He sighed and finished undressing and turned over the faucet in the shower so the water would flow and warm up.

Sam could hear talk going on between Bobby and Dean over the sound of the water. He stepped in and pulled the curtain around behind him. The warm, stale-smelling water ran down Sam's body in rivulets. Sam rubbed his back with his hand, trying to release the knots that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his body. Feeling like his efforts were in vain, he just stood beneath the shower head, trying to piece together what had happened when the yellow-eyed demon possessed him. A searing pain made his brain throb and his stomach ache. He saw Yellow-Eyes in his mind's eye, sneering at Dean as he held the Hunter's knife to Dean's throat. Sam concentrated harder on the scene, and he became Yellow-Eyes. His face was twisted in a wicked grimace as he levitated the knife in front of Dean's throat and shoved another into his abdomen. He gasped and opened his eyes. Sam looked at the reflective surface of the handle for the shower and saw the distortion of his face caused by the curves of the metal. Sam sighed and finished up his shower. He climbed out, toweled himself off, and wrapped the towel around his waist. The edge of it hung just above his knees. The searing pain still coursed through his head, making him dizzy again. Sam grabbed his head in his hand and scowled at the foggy mirror.

Sam opened the bathroom door, avoided eye contact with the two other beings in the room, and grabbed his clothes. Once settling on his outfit, he shuffled back into the bathroom and shut the door once more. Sam reached over and flicked on the switch that turned the fan on so it could clear out the steam from his shower. The fan whirred above him and he shut his eyes. Again, another scene played out before him, only this time he was part of it. He was in Bobby's safe room, the pentagram fan slowly turning above his head. "Why, hello, Sam," said a nasally voice behind him. "Alistair," Sam said as he spun on his heel to face his enemy. Alistair chuckled and the bones in his face began to shift until they were the more defined, stronger planes of the yellow-eyed demons face. He flicked a hand and Sam was forced to his knees. The veins in his neck and face popped from beneath the taut skin. "Poor boy," commented Yellow-Eyes. Sam opened his eyes and looked once more into the mirror.

**Ta-dah! Anyway, like I said, I am sorry it took so long to update this. Please review, I would really like to hear from all of you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural!**

**~*Chapter 3*~**

It was Sam's face that grimaced back at him from the mirrored surface. Not a demon's, and there was no more painful throbbing in his stomach or his head. Sam looked down at the sink and, keeping his head down, proceeded to get dressed. He walked stiffly back to the main part of the apartment and stumbled over Ruby's stretched-out body. Ruby roused and groggily stared at Sam, her eyes not comprehending what she was seeing. She closed her eyes once more and fell into a deep sleep.

Dean was sitting in the kitchen, head in his hands. His drunken stupor was making him sleepy and he was considering going to bed. _Is that wise?_ he asked himself. He thought about Sam's temperament and recollected the previous escapes Sam had made when frustrated. _At least I can always find him,_ he thought smugly to himself. How Dean did it time after time baffled even him, and a chill wormed its way up his spine, causing him to shiver.

The sound of a door opening made him look up and he watched as Sam struggled to make it to the bed. _Even after all the blood he drank, he is still struggling to heal?_ Dean thought to himself. The memory of Sam consuming so much blood still entertained the thought that even after so much struggling Sam's obsession and desire for demon blood hasn't disappeared. Sam kicked Ruby's body and stumbled onto the bed. Grunting with pain and his exertions, Sam rolled over onto his back. "Alright Sammy, time to get onto the next case," Dean spoke aloud. Bobby looked at him, his face twisted in confusion. Sam laughed from the bed and coughed from the force of the laughter. "You honestly expect me to move right now, much less work on a new case?" Sam said, sounding annoyed. "Hell yes, hasn't stopped us before," Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes red-rimmed from the alcohol. Sam folded his hands over his stomach and seemed to ponder the statement. "True, but that's because you were too much off an asshole to stop and think about anyone else. "Bitch," Dean said, attempting to lighten the mood. This time, though, Sam didn't respond with his usual "jerk" response. This worried Dean more than most anything had before about Sam's attitude. Even in what seemed the worst scenario, Sam and Dean would always find the heart to joke with the name calling.

Dean looked at Sam for several minutes before he realized his wounded brother was sleeping. "Sammy?" Dean inquired. "Shut up, Dean. I don't want to start spewing 'it's a wound of the soul' crap, but I think that's what it is and Sam needs his rest," Bobby scolded Dean. Bobby had silently watched the encounter and recognized the look of hurt that had crossed Dean's face when he attempted to start up the name calling game.

The dark of the night had come and Bobby felt a little concerned leaving the guys there by themselves, so he decided to spend the night on the couch. Sam had fallen asleep with his clothes on, too stiff and sore to bother with changing out of them. Bobby suspiciously eyed the still unconscious form of Ruby and decided to not leave it to chance. Bobby drew up a pentagram on the floor in the kitchen, made sure it was whole, and dragged Ruby to its center. Once more checking that no part of the pentagram had been removed, Bobby spread salt along the door and window and around Ruby's confinement. Dean had fallen asleep at the table in the small kitchen and Bobby tenderly awakened him with a slap to the head. "Damn it, Bobby," Dean yelled, groggy and pissed. Dean stood up, the chair screeching along the linoleum. Dean flopped into the other queen bed and was asleep within seconds. Bobby smirked. He readied himself for bed, checked the salt and the pentagram, and slid under the thin motel blanket that made up his couch-bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**I do NOT own Supernatural. I simply have created this for the enjoyment of others.** Side effects of reading this fanfiction are, but not limited to: angst, anxiety, hatred, fear, love, lust, disgust, malevolent feelings, benevolent feelings, listlessness, impatience, the itch to leave comments, non-stop chatter about what might happen next, desire to send Chuck Norris to beat up the author, desire to send cookies to the author, desire to send Chuck Norris with cookies to the author (I mean, come on, chocolate and blood tastes great, right? -_-), etc.

**Any who, READ ON!**

**~*Chapter 4*~**

Bobby woke to the sound of heels clicking sharply across the linoleum in the kitchen. "What the hell is this, Bobby? Don't trust me, huh?" snarled Ruby. "As a matter of fact, I damn well don't," Bobby retorted rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "What happened to me?" Ruby demanded, her foot tapping impatiently. "Oh, you probably don't remember from all the blood that Sam drank from you last night," replied Bobby smugly. "What? How dare you use me as a blood bank? Besides, I thought you never wanted to see me again," Ruby scowled.

"Your right, we never wanted to see you again, but circumstances forced us," Bobby frowned.

"Oh what, you guys send me to Hell and then summon me back just for my blood?"

"Shuddup, I don't have to explain anything to you, demon bitch."

"Excuse me? After all I did for you?"

"Oh, sorry, you mean the turning of Sam into a blood-thirsty freak and the disbanding of Sam and Dean?" replied Bobby, tartly. "Phew, stupid humans never understand a damn thing. You do realize that this whole war is so much bigger than the union between these two, right?" Ruby snarled, pointing towards the sleeping forms of Sam and Dean. "That's just it; because of this union between them we are preventing an even more massive war!" Bobby yelled. Sam stirred, roused by the increase in volume from the two. "Bobby? What's up?" Sam asked, groggily. Signs of stress showed from the deepened wrinkles that bulged beneath Sam's eyes. "Hello, Sam," Ruby spoke up, haughtily. "Ah, damn. I forgot all about you," sneered Sam. "Excuse me? You don't have to be a dick!" Ruby yelled. Dean flipped onto his side on his bed and held a pillow against his ears. "Oh, sorry princess, did we wake you?" Ruby said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, as a matter of fact you did," Dean said as he lost his last grip on sleep. "Oh, blow it out your ass," Ruby replied. "Careful now, hell's bitch, you're the one trapped, and there are SO many harmful things I want to do to you," threatened Dean. "God, would you two shut the hell up!" Sam yelled, then grabbed his stomach and folded in on himself. "Hey, Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked. "Yeah, yeah, fine," Sam replied tartly.

"Listen boys, I think it is about time we move on. Ruby can stay here, but we need to get out of here before somebody come looking for her," Bobby told the trio, earning a scowl from Ruby. Dean nodded his head in agreement and slowly crawled out of bed. Whatever belongings were in the room were packed by Dean and Bobby as Sam struggled to get out of bed and into the Impala. With a click from the door shutting and a scream from Ruby, the band left the motel. The roar of the Impala as it started up was a comforting to Sam's tired body and he easily fell back asleep. "Hey, Bobby, shouldn't Sam be healed by now?" Dean asked Bobby as they loaded their belongings into the cars. "I wouldn't worry about it, bet it's probably one of those 24-hour things," Bobby replied. Dean didn't say anything as he sat down into the driver's seat and peeled out of the parking lot, Bobby following close behind.

The small caravan drove up to Madison, Wisconsin, Sammy finally waking up and alert midway to their destination. "It's good to see you up and moving, Sammy," Dean commented. "Heh, up: yes, moving: not quite. But it is good to be doing better," Sam replied. Dean smirked and Sam smiled. The group stopped at a gas station and Dean picked up some beers, a _Busty Asian Beauties_ magazine, and several bags of snacks. Sam stood resting against the side of the Impala, trying to stretch out his sore stomach. Dean pulled a beer out of the plastic bag and tossed it to Sam, who managed to catch it. He popped the cap off with a bottle opener and took a large swig. "Hey, do I get one?" Bobby asked. Dean's mouth twitched up in a slight smile and he reached into the plastic bag once more and pulled out another beer. A cold sweat coated the bottle and Dean almost let it go too soon when he went to toss it at Bobby. Sam snickered as he imagined the scene before him moving in slow motion; Dean's outstretched hand fumbling to keep a hold on the beer, the beer twisting through the air towards Bobby, Bobby barely managing to catch the slick beer. Bobby glared at Dean as he popped the cap off the bottle. "Sorry, Bobby," Dean nervously smiled. Bobby glared at Dean over the bottle as he downed the cold beer in a couple gulps. " Alright Bobby, where is the next case," Sam asked. "Right in this town," Bobby replied. The boys got down into the car and followed Bobby out to The Cheese State Motel. Bobby rented a room under the name Billy Scott, and Sam and Dean paid for their room on a credit card under the name Sean Lester. The guys met in Bobby's room to figure the plans for tomorrow before wishing each other an undisturbed sleep and departing to their separate rooms and separate beds.

**Hey everyone! I wanted to thank you all for sticking with this story and with me through all my inconsistent updates. ^^ Any who, hope you enjoyed and I would really appreciate it if you all leave comments!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I do NOT own Supernatural… carry on.**

*~Chapter 5~*

Sam and Dean had set up a scenario and witness board on a wall in their room. Red string linked events to victims and newspapers. Witnesses claimed to have seen men with wings and newspaper clippings contained grainy, blurry images of what could easily be mistaken as bird.

"So, what? You think demons are capable of altering their host body?" Dean asked of his younger brother.

"I-I don't know. Demons have been getting stronger…" Sam said, distantly. Dean looked at his brother, concerned about his mentality. Dean had no idea how traumatic to Sam it had been to find out he had been healed by Ruby's blood. Or even what ideas the yellow-eyed demon had planted inside his head when he possessed him to attack Dean.

"Well, I think it is about time we investigate," Dean said, breaking Sam's trance.

"Yeah, let's go let Bobby know we're headed out," Sam replied. The brothers knocked on Bobby's door. He opened it, beer in hand and a slight smell of body odor clinging to him.

"Seriously, Bobby, you don't have to pay extra to shower. It really wouldn't hurt to clean-up every now and then," Dean scoffed.

"Well, excuse me, pretty boy. Unlike you, I don't go chasin' skirts during a case, so I don't need to smell pretty," Bobby replied. Sam smirked at the familiar back-and-forth between the two. It was times like these that he missed the most.

"Yo, Sam, listen up," Dean snapped, "we are going to find one of these sons-of-bitches and demand they tell us everything they know."

"Heh, that's original," Sam scoffed.

"Oh, yeah? Well what do you suggest we do, smarty-pants," Dean retorted.

"I don't know, but don't you think the demons would have figured out our methods of gaining information?"

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. We are doing this my way."

"Fine, Dean, but I'm warning you."

"Nothing's going to happen," Dean scoffed.

_Day later…_

"Wow. Has anyone told you how predictable you guys are?" the demon smirked.

"Shut the hell up," Dean said.

"Just saying, especially since I know what is coming next," the demon responded nonchalantly.

The demon's arms were bound to the chair and stuck in the middle of a trapping seal. Dean picked up a gallon of holy water. He unscrewed the lid and threw some of the water at him. The demon grimaced as the water caused his skin to sizzle. Something seemed to move beneath the skin in the demon's face.

"Ha, it's going to take a lot more than that to obtain what you want. And, you need to offer me something in return," the demon threatened.

"Hm, that's funny, because one splash of holy water already has your resolve breaking. Besides, I think not sending you to Hell immediately is pretty good bargain," Dean responded. The demon pondered his options before looking Dean in the eye. A steel resolve twinkled in his eyes as he pressed his lips together. Dean popped the joints in his neck and several in his fingers.

"This is going to be a long night."


End file.
